Brown Eyed Girl

Almost. You almost let me forget your eyes. Your big brown eyes that very nearly sparkle and make you look like you're excited about everything. You mesmerise me without even trying. I can barely hear the words you're saying for all my attention is focused into your eyes.

You are beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. It's been so long and you were slowly drifting out of my thoughts but as soon as you came into sight, every feeling came right back to the forefront. A want to be with you. A longing that I would mean as much to you as you do to me. A painful knowledge that I never will.

And then it all fades away again as I look into your eyes and I realise something. I'm no longer stressed or angry. I'm not longer sad or lonely. I'm not at all upset or depressed. What do you do to me? I feel...

Happy.

How Many Before It's A Streak?

Here we are again. The Christmas season. Holidays abound and everyone reaches out to spend time with their loved ones, friends and family alike.

Smiles gleam and the sounds laughter escape warm houses and drift into the cold night air. They echo down to the brightly lit street where I stroll, alone in the night as snow slowly gathers on my shoulders from the falling flakes.

At the first house, I walk up the yard and peer into the frost tinged window, blinking as the light hits my eyes. Muffled singing seeps through to my ears as I stare at the delight on the faces of friends crooning together, arms over shoulders, drinks in hand. What they were singing didn't matter. They were together and that was where the happiness came from. Being together. A twinge of pain pulls my eyes away and I return to my walk down the middle of the road.

I approach another house flooding the snow with light and I hesitantly make my way to the window. While the gathering here is slightly more tame than the previous party, not a single person inside is enjoying themselves any less. Everyone is sitting comfortably around the elaborately decorated room, simply talking. Their conversation is a mystery to me, but I can't help but imagine tales of years gone by, everyone fondly reminiscing the happy past they shared. Blinking away tears before they could fall, I back away to the street.

I walk on, sounds of happiness echoing in my ears. I've never had the strength to hold these tears back on my own for very long. Walking down the street alone, surrounded by the happiness of those I love who don't even see me, I've never felt so alone. So isolated. So broken. The tears break through.

Here we are again. The Christmas season. Holidays abound and everyone reaches out to spend time with their loved ones, friends and family alike. This metaphor is not far from the truth. I can't wait for January when people remember me again.

Push

You push. All you do is push. Push and push until they finally push back. Mumbling apologies to hide mistrust. Smiling to hide disdain. And you buy it. Well, deep down you know it's all bullshit, words to make sure you don't catch on, but on the surface you want to believe they're true. And that's when the hurt starts to creep in. It only starts on the surface, sliding across your skin, but it works it's way down. Through muscle and tissue, nerves and veins, the pain moves deeper. It scrapes on your bones with ferocity and burns your marrow in a blaze of unbearable fire and tears. Pain. Everything. Everywhere. You scream but no one hears. No one wants to hear. Every breath sends lances of fire through your being. Your fists tremble violently with the effort it takes to stay still. And then, through the pain and the tears and the sheer ferocity of it all, you push again.

Push.

Front Teeth

All I want for Christmas is to know that even just one person will miss me when I'm gone.

Wimp

When will it stop, this ache in his heart? Why has it not gone away?

Imagine three scenes:

A guy sitting in church, sitting with friends.

A guy at work, in a warehouse, working with people he's worked with for years.

A guy in a restaurant, sitting across from his friends, all laughing.

Look closely at that guy. Look into his eyes. If you look close enough, you will see the smiles are just a cover. They are just the outer layer that does not reach down to the core. You will see sadness in his eyes. Sadness and loneliness and fear.

But why? Why, in these scenarios, is this guy sad? Or lonely? If only you could look into his heart. You would see sadness as he realises he doesn't belong. You would see loneliness for being the odd one out; the only one without a partner. You would see fear that everyone around him would realise these things and leave him behind. You would see heart crushing emotion that threatens to batter him into a husk of tears and sobs the moment he let's his guard down.

But why does he feel these emotions when surrounded by his friends?

He doesn't know.

For what feels like forever he has tried to puzzle out why he cannot be happy. Forever he has yearned that his smile would not be so forced. Forever he has wished that he could feel loved.

That's it, isn't it? Love. He doesn't feel loved. In every scene we see him among friends and co-workers but sadness in his eyes. It's because he feels unloved and not cared about. He wants to believe they would notice if he stopped being there. He wants to believe there would be someone by his side in tragedy. He wants to believe a tear would be shed if he ceased to breathe.

He has so much love for all those people. Why don't they ever love him back?

The Grind

For how long do I have to live through this pain? When will the day come when I can look at you and not feel my heart tear in two? Is it too much to ask for this nightmare to return to it's best days? To the days when all I looked forward to was seeing you walk in? To sitting across from you at Tim's, talking like nothing ever really mattered? To those mornings in the car, driving through sleet and snow to get you to school? To feeling like you actually cared when I talked?

I miss the fun we had. I miss our conversations. I miss our friendship. I miss you. Years of memories, all but lost. Years of memories that mean nothing to you. Years of memories that once brought uncontrollable smiles to my face, now bring tears that don't know how to stop.

Years of wanting to be more than a friend to you has faded into a longing that the words you say to me were true. That the smiles you give me weren't forced. That being near me wasn't a test of your patience. But if wishes were wings, I'd have flown to the sun and back, and you'd still be out of reach.

So what is this? An ode to times gone by? A lament to lost love?

No.

This is my goodbye.

As Time Approaches Infinity...

Here I am. Just me. Alone again. What am I doing? I'm slowly killing myself, that's what. For a guy who finds it completely unbearable to be alone, I startlingly push you all away. Why can't I leave well enough alone?

I'm not the person I could be. I'm not the friend to you all that I should be. I'm not the man I want to be. So what am I?

I'm a collection of mistakes. I'm failure personified. I'm a fool playing at life. I'm broken and alone, reaching out to anyone and everyone who so much as smiles at me. But none of you have the time or patience to deal with me. I'm too much to deal with. My emotions are a roller coaster. My sensitivity is turned up to 11. My tears flow far to readily. I'm broken and alone and I have nowhere to cast any of the blame but upon myself.

I wish I could change, but I know that's impossible. I've been in this same spot for years. I've hurt so many loved ones, one of them more precious than anything or anyone I could ever imagine. If I could do that to her, what is stopping me from doing it to all of you?

Nothing.

As time approaches infinity, I approach the ability to be a friend.

Unicorns and Fairies

What if magic were real?

I'd see you from across the crowded room, your eye catching mine. We'd make our way to each other, anticipation putting a swiftness to our feet. We'd meet in the centre of the room, the multitude of bodies surrounding us suddenly invisible. Holding you in my arms, I'd kiss you, vehemently and fervently. Time would stop and the moment would last to our dying breath. I would never let you go, if magic were real.

We'd say hello to each other, youthful shyness finally overcome by a want to befriend. We'd grow up together, playing whenever together. We'd both find girlfriends and boyfriends over the years, none ever satisfying for long. We'd finish high school, moving on to college and time-consuming jobs. We'd grow closer despite a time-tested friendship. One fateful night, we'd stare into each other's eyes, realising this was more than mere friendship. We's finally be together, if magic were real.

I'd ask you out in a letter because I was too shy, and too afraid of rejection, to ask you in person. Answering your call would be the hardest thing I ever did. You'd be yourself, kindly accepting a date with me. We'd go out, me making a fool out of myself, you as elegant as ever. It would bloom into a long romance, a strong relationship that would last years in the very least. We'd grow old together, our love never fading for a moment, if magic were real.

If only magic were real.

Nostalgia

I've sunken into my end of your couch, you at the other, each of us nearly completely surrounded by pillows. The gray corduroy of the cushions is warmingly welcome. It's a comfortable position to be in.

As we sit there, vegging out to endless hours of CSI, I'm oblivious to one glaring fact. I'm happy here. Simply happy. I could stay here forever as long as you're here to keep me company, commenting occasionally on the terrible programming we're subjecting ourselves to.

But what we put on the television is of no consequence to the evening. In fact, the worse it is, the better time we have. For the tv is not the reason I spend so much time at your house, my dear friend. It is you. Your smile, your laugh, your company. Just you. You don't know the storm you helped me to weather by being you.

The hour is approaching 5 o'clock in the morning, and our eyes are heavy. I think you dozed off once or twice, refusing to send me home to sleep. We're still having too much fun. But I know you need your sleep, and I do too for that matter. I say goodbye, you give me one of your hugs (they always were the best) and I set off walking home, earbuds blasting something to keep me attentive in the dark.

Arriving home, I sneak past my dad getting up for work and climb silently into bed. No need for them to know what time I arrived home. As I lay my head on my pillow and sleep quickly descends, I can't help but smile. What a great night.

I awake, the smile on my face slowly disappearing as reality sets in. Just a dream. No. Not a dream. A memory. A fond recollection of a time that once was. A time that could have been hell, but was bliss because of her. She was laid back, honest to a fault and a frigging riot. She made the problems of my life melt away, for a few hours at least.

My smile returns. I'll always remember her. My friend.

Linkage

Just thought I'd share a link relevant to my last post. Enjoy!

Cloud Types

Clouds (Lightning Pt. 2)

Morning arrives and I get in my car and head home. It's been a long night. The sun is on its way up the sky, not too many clouds to block its light. I turn a corner and that's when I see it. A huge cloud formation, looming above the world.

I gape in amazement, barely keeping my car on the road. I pull off to the side and hit the four-ways. This is too incredible to ignore. I've always loved clouds, well, anything to do with the sky, really, and they still take my breath away. What a wonder.

They look like cumulus mediocris clouds if I'm not mistaken. Giant, puffy mountains floating above me, looking down at humanity. If I were them, I would be laughing at everyone else. They float across the sky, not a care in the world, save the choice of sending rain down to feed the earth.

But they do not laugh. They show no contempt for those stapled to the ground. Those who merely imitate their flight with roaring, metal machines, streaking through the sky, moving too fast to feel. They show no disdain of those who stare up at them, calling out the shapes the wind carves them into. They show nothing but their beauty, their simple radiance. They are something so simple, yet so complex. All made the same way, yet with countless variations. Simple elegance, masterful artwork.

I come back down to earth, signal and merge back onto the route home. An old longing has been stirred awake within me. The longing to soar above the clouds, to soar with the clouds. Free of machinery, free of man's aid. I long to coast the skies, nothing but me and the puffy, white mountains in the sky. While some longings may never be satisfied, I do not fret. Staring at God's signature in the sky, I am filled with more than a longing. I am filled with peace, with a pure, simple happiness nothing else on this earth can replicate. If God takes such care to create these clouds, what care does He take with me?

I am in God's hands.

Lightning

Standing in the middle of the silent parking lot, I stare into the night sky. Fascination secures my feet to the ground. I watch on as, in the distance, long bolts of lightning strike silently, over and over again. The surreal absense of sound and the light fog on the ground makes this a dream. It has to be.

Fingers of light stretch across the sky, reaching from cloud to cloud, never able to grasp what they appear to long for. What power is this? Watching the sky erupt before me, the true science of it far above my head, I feel so small. Were I to simply touch a single one of these tendrils of light, its power would overtake me and my existence on this earth would come to a close. Such power mere kilometres from our heads. My fascination only deepens.

But what of the author of this living artwork I stare at in the sky? What power does He possess? It's unfathomable. He created a plantet, an entire eco system that essentially runs itself. Millions of pieces in His puzzle work together, an ever changing tapestry of art and beauty and life. The largest puzzle in existence, it puts itself together as it pulls itself apart and rearanges itself back together again. A continuous cycle that will never end until He says so. I can only stand in awe and wonder and amazement.

A rain drop on my face snaps me back to reality. The clouds have slowly worked their way here as I stood here, lost in thought. I hightail it back inside as the rain starts to pour down on my head. My wonder at God's power is lost for a moment in my rush to stay dry, but whenever I look up into a storm, whenever lightning crawls its way across the sky, reaching for some unattainable goal, I will always be reminded of God's power.

If only the storm would not end.

Not Me Again (What A Surprise)

Why am I crying my eyes out right now? Because I'm not like them? What am I supposed to be? Something better than what I am, to be sure. "The Human Third Wheel." That's me. No matter what I do, I end up the awkward extra person in the group. Even today, with a group of four people, I was clearly the one no one really cared about. The one no one cared whether or not he existed. Unwanted and unloved, I couldn't help but retreat inwards, away from the voices talking around me.

Is it wrong to be hurt? They were trying to be nice, to be inclusive. But it was just so clear who each person had come out to see, and not one of them was me. I didn't know someone could feel so isolated even when surrounded by people, in the bustling epicentre of a major city, but there I was. A pathetic piece of shit.

So I empty my eyes sitting in the car in the driveway, wondering why I even bother. The same thing happens every time. Now it's almost 3 a.m. I should go inside. Tears or no, life goes on. No time to waste on pathetic little me.

On My Own

This is a song from the musical, Les Miserables. I highly suggest you check it out if you haven't seen or heard it before. The original song is sung by a woman so I changed all the pronouns from masculine to feminine. These words could not mirror my own life better even if they were plucked from my head. It's kinda cool at the same time that it's utterly depressing. Anyway, I hope you enjoy.

And now I'm all alone again, no where to go, no one to turn to. And now the night is near, now I can make believe she's here. Sometimes I walk alone at night when everybody else is sleeping. I think of her and then I'm happy with the company I'm keeping. The city goes to bed and I can live inside my head.

On my own, pretending she's beside me.
All alone, I walk with her till morning.
Without her, I feel her arms around me and when I lose my way I close my eyes and she has found me.

In the rain the pavement shines like silver.
All the lights are misty in the river.
In the darkness the trees are full of starlight and all I see is her and me forever and forever.

And I know it's only in my mind, and I'm talking to myself and not to her.
And although I know that she is blind still I say there's a way for us.

I love her, but when the night is over she is gone. The river's just a river.
Without her, the world around me changes.
The trees are bare and everywhere the streets are full of strangers.

I love her, but everyday I'm learning all my life I've only been pretending.
Without me, her world will go on turning.
A world that's full of happiness that I have never known.

I love her.
I love her.
I love her, but only on my own.

Mixed Bag

It's such a mixed bag of feelings I get when I see you. Pain, joy, shame, fear, love, anger. So much shame that rips my heart apart. So much pain from the memories of being your friend. Emotions I never thought I'd feel towards you. But still you manage to do what you've always done.

You inspire me.

The dedication and perseverance I see in you for the things that are important to others is astounding. I watch you pour all you have into one small thing, accepting nothing less than perfection from yourself. You work tirelessly at one task, never stopping until you are satisfied. Your standards for what you do for others are set almost impossibly high, but you don't rest until they are met. You put your all into what is important to you. Others.

It's almost hard to watch. You make me look like a selfish pig, though some would argue that I do that myself. You stand head and shoulders above the rest of us for this. Any love I feel for you pales next to the love behind your actions for others. You shame me further simply by being true to God and true to yourself.

You're still my hero. I wish I could tell you that. If I weren't such a coward, I'd have a hard time not telling you every time I see you. I love you, I care dearly for you, and I miss you more than any word in any language could speak.

I wish I could die for you.

Go Away

So I fucked up. Big deal. Do you really have to make me feel like shit? My failing doesn't affect you anyway. Why do you care enough to flip out and put me down?

I'm well aware of my failings. Leave me the fuck alone.

Nostalgia

I haven't seen you in a month but one thought of you sneaks into my head and my heart skips a beat. How do you still do that?

2:48 a.m.

It's that time of the week again. That make-or-break time where I can either have a good weekend ahead of me or a bad one. It's 2:48 Saturday morning and I know already that I've got nothing to look forward to. The few friends I have are either away, working or just not answering my various attempts to see what they're up to. Maybe if I were a better person, more emotionally stable, I wouldn't be having such a tough time with this.

I go through my weeks alone. I have friends at work, and the interactions I have with them are always great, but it's at work. There's a different mental attitude in that building, something always in the back of my mind or hovering over my head. In the end, none of those interactions are very fulfilling at all. The real joy I get from spending time with my friends comes from spending time with them on the weekend. Even the time I have with my friends at church pales to the time I spend with them outside of the church, on our own time. Maybe it's because we all chose to be there. It's not in any way an obligation. In my mind, that makes the biggest difference. You chose to be with me.

No, I can't expect my friends to be around all the time. Obviously, I understand that they have other things to do, and really, I'm happy for any of them who are out having a good time. It's just kind of depressing to be heading into a two-and-a-half day period where I'm essentially going to see no one but myself. I spend enough time with me during the week. I'm not that great.

I never thought I'd say this but the sooner this weekend comes to a close and I can get back to work on Monday, the better. This loneliness is going to kill me.

Home Sweet Home

Just another Sunday morning, just another service at church. Having been at this church for over seventeen years, the days understandably blend together. But I wouldn't change anything for the world. This place is more my home than any house I've ever lived in. Many of these people are just as much my family as the family I was born into. I'd rather be here than just about any place on earth.

The week before, I skipped church to volunteer at an internet community event downtown. It was a lot of fun but I didn't realise the effect it would have on me to not be at church for one week. It was like I was cheating, like I ran away. Despite having a pretty good morning and afternoon downtown, I felt like I had missed out on a better time. And I'm sure I did.

But this realisation led to another. I haven't missed a day of church in years. I mean years. I've gone out with friends until three or four in the morning and not missed church. I've spent entire nights talking on the phone, hanging up after five, still to end up one of the first people in the building to prepare for the service. I'm not trying to brag here. I'm trying to paint a picture. I don't miss church.

The feeling I had the next Sunday was unlike anything I've felt in a very long time. It was like I had returned home for the first time in years. While no one batted an eye that I hadn't been there one day, I felt like it had been ages. And even when I discovered that some of my best friends hadn't come out that day, the happiness to be back where I feel most at home far outweighed any disappointment that clawed at my heart.

Now, I've put a lot of emphasis behind the social aspect of church, which is highly important, of course, but it was so good to be back serving and worshiping God in a place I know I belong. It was a comparably mild service next to our usual services, but it was incredible. Even though the music was slow and plain and lacked a beat, the words seemed to jump off the page and really mean something. It was incredible. Maybe the week I was away was for a reason. Maybe it was worth it.

Well, I'm ready to start my new attendance streak. But it's not for any gold star beside my name. It's not so everyone notices what a "good Christian" I am. It's so I never let myself fall into the trap where you say, "I can skip today. It's only one Sunday." It's so I don't forget who commands my life. It's so I don't forget where I come from and who my oldest, truest friends are. It's so I don't forget my home.

Home sweet home.

Esteemed

You know I love you right? I love you more than anyone I've ever known. I have for years and nothing will ever change that. Nothing. I know we don't talk anymore and we no longer do the things we used to do together, and that's my fault, but it can't change the way I feel about you. You were my best friend. No relationship I've had has ever come close to the one I had with you. You listened to me ramble on non-stop, you gave good, honest, Christian advice that never failed to be the right thing to do, you led me and pried, squeezed and pulled every bit of potential you could out of me to see me succeed.

You cared about me.

You loved me.

I know you probably don't love or care about me anymore. I've hurt you too much. But I want you to know, I still love you with all my heart. I've made friends since that day I planted my knife in your back, some of them have become very close, very dear to me. But no person can possibly ever replace you in my life, no matter how close they get.

I love you so much.

I miss you.

No Better Feeling

She looked up and saw me walk in. First surprise touched her eyes, then a smile. Joy in its simplest form.

There's no better feeling in the world than when someone is happy to see you. When a person sees you and their face lights up and they become visibly happier, it erases all sadness, all stress, all negative emotion going through your heart. You feel that same rush of adrenaline you feel when riding a roller coaster. You can't help but feel just as happy to see them.

Her smile spread to her lungs. "Steve!!!"

Hearing your name yelled with such excitement is a rush like no other. It's so out of the ordinary, so foreign, you almost don't know how to respond.

I turned and walked toward her, her contagious smile spreading to my own face. Turns out I'm happy to see her too.

Maybe it's not just yawns that are contagious. Maybe it's a person's mood, their state of mind that's contagious. Have you ever walked away from an interaction with someone not mirroring their anger or pleasant demeanour in that interaction? It's hard not to.

She took a step toward me and opened her arms wide invitingly, smile still beaming bright. It had been a while since I'd last seen her. We embraced. I almost forgot what it felt like to be cared about.

I think we take for granted the time we have with those we love. We become so accustomed to their presence in our lives. Sure, it makes the moment after a long absence so much more sweet, but I think we really need to learn how to truly appreciate our loved ones while they're still around. But even that isn't quite enough. We need to show that appreciation, whether it be through word or deed. Sometimes, it's the smallest of gestures that carries the most weight. It's the acts done with not much thought or preparation that show the most care.

Let's do it. Let's forget about the tough day we're having, forget that things aren't near as good as they could be. Let's show those we care about at least a glimmer of the real emotion behind our relationship with them. Not only does it make the biggest difference in them, it does wonders in your own heart. Let go of the world's cold, hard-hearted ways and show a little emotion. It's worth it.

Untitled

I said a lot of things. Really dumb things. Things that weren't true.

Why'd I say them, then? Damn it, I wish I knew. I have no excuses.

I could give you my reasons but I doubt you want to hear them and frankly, neither do I. I'm tired of having my reasons.

So all I can say is that I'm sorry. It's just a word and it means next to nothing but I have nothing else to offer.

If you're done with me, I understand. If this were the first time, maybe I could argue, but I've walked these steps before.

I'm sorry.

Just You

Another too-late night before another early morning. Barely dragging myself out of bed, I got ready in silence. Sometimes I get lost in the grind, lost in the sheer repetitiveness. I swith to automatic, just moving through the motions, none of it really making any impact on awareness. Out the door, onto the sidewalk, stop at the light. All of it sliding off deep thought.

Are you going to be here today? Will I get to see you? Talk to you? That's all I want, isn't it?

I walk forward as the light turns green. The bright sunlight of morning flashes in my eyes as I walk beneath the shadow of a tree. It makes me blink, and I'm back to reality. I realise the song playing in my headphones is terrible and I skip to the next.

How did I ever like that song?

Finally, I arrive at my destination. Right away I get to work, setting up before everyone arrives. I left later than I wanted to so people start showing up before I'm finished. I say a few hellos and share a few smiles but none of these people are who I'm looking for. It's always you. No matter the state of our friendship at the time, I'm always waiting to see you.

And that's when you walk in. No beam of sunlight on you or angelic choir announcing your entrance as there seem to be in my memories of you. Just you. You couldn't be more beautiful.

Your black hair matches your dark skin perfectly, falling to either side of your face and down your back, just below your shoulders. Even as you greet people with your warm smile, your sharp, brown eyes remain as striking as ever. You're wearing a black tank top underneath a low-cut, white lace top and black dress pants that flare out at the foot. I manage to drag my eyes up but too late. You pass me before I have a chance to say hello. Disappointment and sadness scratch at my heart.

Sigh... You can say hi later. You have work to do.

I finish setting up as practice gets underway. Everything goes smoothly and soon practice is over. Maybe we can hang out for the little bit of time we have to kill. I know it's futile to even ask, you always say no, but as always I can't turn down the opportunity to try.

As I approach, I can't help but take you in. Every single thing about you is beautiful. You look up and smile when you see me. You always manage to seem happy to see me, even when I'm sure you're not. A lump forms in my throat as your eyes meet mine.

This is stupid. She's going to say no. She always says no. Just say hi and walk away. She'll be happy and you won't be disappointed.

Of course, I ignore the voice in my head and I propose we go for breakfast. Your reply takes me off guard and I walk out next to you half dazed in a mix of surprise and elation.

As the day goes on, I find myself next to you more than I thought possible. I can't even get over how beautiful you are. Your eyes are so sharp, your face stunning, your breasts full, your figure shows the work you've put into it. But even the pleasure of looking at you pales next to the joy of talking to you, of just being with you.

I find myself praying that this day will never end.

Not For This

As isolation descends and loneliness sets in, the realisation of my place among those I love most is a harsh one. My heart was not made for this. If I had the courage to leave this city, to run away from the cause of this pain, tonight I would be gone.

Killers

Frustration may come on easily, but all it takes to be defused is a smile. This is a short tale about how a simple smile can make the biggest difference in someone's day.

Nearing the end of my shift, I was walking the floor looking for help unloading a truck. I couldn't do it on my own and my shift was almost up, so I was in a bit of a rush. As I neared the hardware department, I saw a lot associate trying to help a woman find a specific package of drawer knobs. She had found one package but needed more.

I could tell as I walked up that the situation wasn't the best. The woman seemed upset and the associate helping her was getting frustrated. He walked to a nearby computer to look up the sku to see if we had any more on hand. With my knowledge of our products, I suspected I knew why no one could find what the lady was looking for. I approached the associate and asked to see the product. My suspicions were right.

"I know where this is," I told him. Turning to the woman, I said, "I'll take to you them."

After asking the associate if he could help me unload the waiting truck, I turned and led the customer the kitchen & bath department. I walked up to a shelf, looked at the model number on the product in my hand and compared it to the labels on the shelf.

Bingo.

"There it is," I said, handing her the item. She looked at me, smiled a very gracious smile and said, "Thank you so much!"

"No problem," I replied.

As I walked away, the image of her smile flashed in my head. It was so sincere, so real. In something so small, she found something that meant something to her. Something of value to her.

I'm not writing this to brag. The only reason I knew where that item belonged was because, in the five years I've worked here, I've put it and others like it onto that shelf hundreds of times. I only recognised the problem as I approached it because I've seen people in the same situation many times. The oddity that some knobs are kept in a different department than the rest stuck in my brain.

But it made me realise that that situation was part of why, in my five years in this company, I've put those away so often and seen others not able to find them. I had those experiences, in part, to help that lady and receive her warm smile on a frustrating day.

I've gone on too long but I really wanted to share this story to any who care to read it. Just remember that everything happens for a reason but also remember that the simple things you do can make the biggest difference in someone's life.

Go on. Smile like you mean it.

The Hard Way

Earbuds in his ears, he turned up the music to near maximum. Maybe if it were loud enough he wouldn't be able to think. With as much on his mind as there was, an empty void is better than the reality he built for himself.

When did doing the right thing become so hard? Why did he always have to take things so far that he had to take drastic measures to do what comes so naturally to everyone else? When did he lose the concept of normality?

He stood up from his seat on the concrete as the bus pulled up and hit pause. Dropping a token into the slot, he made his way to the back and sat down. He hit play and ignored the looks from the other passengers, startled at the volume of the hard rock music they could hear quite clearly.

The music wasn't working. Despite his "pedestrian face", the tough face he put on when he didn't want to be bothered, his heart was breaking on the inside. He'd been a fool and now he must pay for it. Why was he so quick to love? More importantly, why was he so quick to destroy the little good in his life?

He stood, pulling on the cord to signal his stop, and stepped up to the door. Almost home. Maybe the tv would distract him enough to forget for a while. Even a little while would be bliss. The doors opened and he stepped out, blinking as the low evening sun hit his face. He turned and began walking the last leg of his journey home.

Thoughts still creeping in, he cast his eyes to the ground. Why did he push her away? Shame was an almost physical force, pushing his head down in sorrow. Only one day and he already missed her. But he'd been through this before. He'd get through it again, wouldn't he? And it was for the best, wasn't it? He didn't want to get through it. That would be too easy and he didn't deserve easy. Why couldn't he be normal?

Why can't I be normal?

A song came on he hadn't heard in years. Turning the volume up even more, thought finally started to drift away.

Even the Best Intentions

I poked my head into the window of your office and there you were. If you were anyone else, I wouldn't remember a damn thing about you, but for some reason, I can always recall every detail.

Your curly black hair was tied back into a pony tail, as it always is when you have to wake up early for work. You were in blue jeans and a zip-up sweater, bright green t-shirt showing underneath. The sweater was just snug enough at your chest to accentuate your breasts, but for once, that's not where my attention was focused.

You turned toward me when I said hello and when my eyes met yours, everything else was lost to me. Your wide, dark eyes struck me like a punch in the chest. Have they always been so stunning?

I must have sounded the complete fool because from that moment on, all I could focus on was your eyes. Deep, dark brown pools, they pull me in, almost hypnotically. You are so beautiful. You turn away and for that moment I take you in.

I know those jeans. I've always liked them. They remind me that even a white girl can have a nice ass. Is it just me or have your breasts always been that big? It's difficult but I bring my eyes back up as you turn to look at me again.

You're not wearing make-up. I never thought you needed any. Your features are so sharp, and make-up would just hide your true beauty. Your slender neck is a surprising point of interest to me. It's simply... perfect. Your eyes start to draw me in again.

A thought at the back of my mind tickles the edge of awareness. I have work to do. It seems the hardest thing I've ever done but I say goodbye and go back to my work, the image of you burned into my vision.

So much for getting over you.

Rain

Is it you I want
Or just the notion of
A heart to wrap around
So I can find my way around?

But A Moment

"Don't send it."

"Why not?"

"She's getting tired of you."

"She says she isn't."

"You think she'd tell you? Are you an idiot?"

"It's just a simple question. Yes or no. That's all."

"If she answers, which she won't, you are not going to like the answer."

"I might. You never know until you ask."

"I'm telling you, don't send it."

"I'm sending it."

"Who do you think you are to her?"

"I'm her friend."

"You're nothing. Less than nothing."

"That's not true."

"You know it is. Why do you keep sending those messages? Because you want to see her. You want her to be all smiles and happy to see you so you'll feel better about yourself. You know everyone plays the happy friend to your face."

"What are you trying to say? Just come out and say it."

"You don't mean anything to her! Maybe you did once, but not anymore! Stop trying to act like you haven't screwed everything up! You have a chance, a small one, to make things right. You need to take it."

"And what is that?"

"Start now by not sending that message."

"But..."

"Shut up and delete it. You know I'm right. You spoke to her three times this week already. How is that not enough for you?"

"I'm lonely."

"You're going to spew that excuse every chance you get, aren't you?"

"It's true."

"Get over it."

"I'm sending it."

"It's your funeral. You're the only one between the two of you with something to lose, and you'll lose more than just her. You think he'll stick up for you?"

"He'll take the side of what's right."

"You think that's you? Really? You really are an idiot."

"I'm sending it."

"Fucking idiot."

I Do That A Lot

I teared up a little reading my book today. Perrin, a lead character, had just learned that his family had been killed. He showed little emotion of any kind, moving on to other pressing issues at hand. That is, until his love, Faile, decided that was enough. I'll just let the author do the talking.

"I have had enough," she announced. Perrin frowned as she stood and came around the table to him. Seizing his head, she pulled his face into her midriff. "Your mother is dead," she said quietly. "Your father is dead. Your sisters are dead, and your brother. Your family is dead, and you cannot change it. Certainly not by dying yourself. Let yourself grieve. Don't hold it inside where it can fester."

He took her by the arms, meaning to move her, but for some reason his hands tightened till that grip was the only thing holding him up. It was only then that he realized he was crying, sobbing into her dress like a baby. What must she think of him? He opened his mouth to tell her he was all right, to apologize for breaking down but what came out was, "I couldn't get here any faster. I couldn't-I-" He gritted his teeth to shut himself off.

"I know," she murmured, stroking his hair for all the world as if he were a child. "I know."
He wanted to stop, but the more she whispered understanding, the more he wept, as though the soft hands on his head were smoothing the tears out of him.

With Faile holding his head beneath her breasts, Perrin lost track of how long he cried. Images of his family flashed in his thoughts, his father smiling as he showed him how to hold a bow, his mother singing while she spun wool, Adora and Deselle teasing him when he shaved for the first time, Paet wide-eyed at a gleeman during Sunday long ago. Pictures of graves, cold and lonely in a row. He wept until there were no more tears in him.

So much of that screamed at me, pulling emotions out from my core. Not just at the loss of his family, but at the love between Perrin and Faile. The story up until this moment had the two quite angry with each other and not speaking for about a week or so. This moment showed that none of their reasons for fighting mattered, not in the face of tragedy. It showed that her love for him was real, despite the horrible things he had said to her in hopes of driving her away so she would not see him die, or die herself trying herself trying to avenge him.

There's so much more I'd love to put here but I would end up having at least half the book posted if I don't rein myself in now.

I wish there were someone who loved me that much. Someone who would hold me when I cry, and tell me when I need to be. Someone who would cast aside the frightfully horrible things I said and did to hurt her, intentional or not, when something of a greater importance came about. A girl I could do the same for without being a creep for loving her too much when she does not share the remotest part of that love for me.

But that is a tangent I do not intend to continue on. I just wanted to share this with the few (and dwindling) readers I have.

An Inconvenient Truth

Tears come when they come. They wait on no man.

Stop Me

How important is it to you that you talk to someone on a daily basis? I mean more than just the inane chatter you find at work or at home. I'm talking about real conversation. Talk that means something.

Am I the only person who seems to need that on a daily, or at least a regular basis? Why doesn't the human interaction I get at work and the little I get at home provide at least a little satisfaction? Why doesn't quench some of the thirst I have for human contact?

I guess it's because I've always held my close friends higher than anyone else, including my family. If I don't get to see my close friends on a weekly basis, at the very least, I get depressed. It doesn't even really matter all that much what we do, as long as I'm there with them.

I've gone off on a slightly related tangent. Yes, having that time once or twice a week to be WITH my close friends is extremely important to me, but I'm talking about something a little different. I'm talking about my interaction with them between the weekends, in the days where we can't hang out together. Am I the only one who needs something there, something small but real, to make the week bearable? I can't be, can I?

It takes effort from me, real effort, not to send messages and call people every day of the week looking for conversation. I know no one wants to hear from me so much and I know I'm doing more harm than good just by trying to contact these people as much as I do, but not trying is unbearable. Simply unbearable. I'm driven by hope. Hope that someone will talk. Hope that maybe they will make me feel less lonely. Hope that they can make me happy.

But that is a lot to place on the shoulders of others, especially when they are my burdens to bear. I will never be happy with simple conversation, but that won't stop me from trying. From hoping.

I guess the best thing I can do is to stop. Stop messaging. Stop calling. Stop asking. If people want to talk, to hang out, to see me, they'll ask. The more I ask, the more my heart is torn by rejection.

And it's no one's fault but mine.

But Not Really

I wish you were a terrible person. That way, not talking to you would be easy.

"Just a Dream"?

Eyes heavy and muscles waning, I dragged myself into bed. Surrounded by darkness, sleep's warm embrace came easy. But it did not hold.

Back and forth I tossed in the night, deep slumber never taking hold. Frustration mingled with weariness, resulting in desperation. Desperation for sleep. For an escape. But then, amid the turmoil of sleeplessness, somewhere in between waking moments, I dreamed.

Of you.

Though it was only for a moment, I wouldn't trade that moment for the world. You were so beautiful, so stunning. Almost as beautiful as you were when I saw you Saturday morning. Somehow, in jeans and a hoodie, you stand out like a diamond amidst coal.

You know what you did in my dream? You did what I cannot. You did what I have been trying to do for so long but have found myself unable to. You did the one thing I find myself trying to do each and every day. You simply asked a question. And I answered. Such a taste of happiness I may not know.

I awoke.

My first thought was of you. Happiness filled me and reached for my phone. I had to tell someone about this. Reality hit like a brick wall.

It was just a dream.

It wasn't real. It never happened. You never asked your question and I'm still the coward who will likely never ask you.

Closing eyes now filled with tears, I turned over, trying to forget. Maybe my next dream would turn out to be real.

Damn, you're beautiful.

Forgotten Already

That was fast.

Good Times Had By All

I haven't posted in a while so I might as well do so now. I'm at work and it's a fairly easy night so I have to fill the time somehow. Good thing Johnny's not here. He'd be making me work or something.

As I write this, it's 2:15 Friday morning. It has taken it's sweet ass time getting here, but having finally arrived, the little stress from the week is all but gone. But despite being a long week, it was a surprisingly good one. Starting Monday, I've managed to read a lot more than I've been able to and since the book I'm reading is amazing, it did wonders for my morale in general.

On Tuesday I received a surprise Christmas present: a 5L mini keg of Heineken. Fantastic. It takes forever to chill but it's Heineken. It's worth the wait. For once, I'll have something to serve the guys when they come over this weekend.

On Wednesday I got my annual review at work. This being a public forum, I can't give any specific details, but it was the single best review I've ever gotten. Working nights, I've gotten used to doing a butt load of work with little to no recognition from any day staff or managers but knowing that my glowing review was not only approved, but agreed with by upper management completely made my week.

Thursday brought a nice surprise in that I got to see a friend of mine whom I haven't seen in a while. It's honestly astonishing how much people can take for granted the once or twice a week they may see a friend. And that helped me realise how lucky I am to have the close friends I do and the frequency in which I see them.

Friday brings payday. Not the biggest and best thing by far to happen this week, but it is a highlight.

Saturday should bring friends and laughter which, despite the good things that happened to me, were seriously lacking this week. Oh, and beer. And xbox. And who knows what else.

Everyone reading this is officially invited to my house Saturday, whenever you feel like coming. Good times are to be had by all.

Again

I don't want to be me anymore. I'm tired of it. No one likes me anyway. Even my closest friends, despite their words, can only take a little of me before hating me and moving on. Maybe someday I'll be a better person. A likeable person. Until then, I guess I'll just wish it.

I Feel Like a Carebear

I forgot how to hug you. It's the dumbest thing to forget how to hug someone, I know, but our hugs were always different. I can't believe I forgot.

Hugs are a simple but good thing. They are an easy way to show affection. Not necessarily romantic affection, but the affection between friends. They're a physical representation that we like or love someone, as well as a symbol of our respect and admiration of them. I realise I'm putting a lot of weight behind such a simple gesture but this is what I have found hugs to mean. A gesture of love.

But our hugs were anything but simple, weren't they? I wouldn't say they were romantic. No, they weren't that. But they were more than friends showing care for one another. After a hard week of work and school and the various problems life brings, when we finally embraced on Sunday, everything just stopped. There was no stressful job to return to tomorrow. There was no paper due much too soon to be finished properly. There was nothing but you and me, holding so tight it was sometimes hard to breathe.

And that's partially what I forgot. Not only did I forget the physical way we hug, which is different than the way I hug anyone else, but I forgot the emotional way we hug. I forgot how it felt. I forgot how it made me forget all the shit. I forgot.

Heh heh... I made it awkward on Sunday, didn't I? You're so small and I leaned down to hug you like I would hug anyone else but you pushed past my faulty gesture, wrapped your arms around me and squeezed, your head tight against my chest. In all honesty, I was surprised at that and for the briefest of moments, I didn't know what to do. Then, like a rush of water, it came back. My arms went around you and I squeezed back. Our embrace didn't last as long as they used to, but it held just long enough to know that it was more than just a hug. More than just two friends showing care for one another. It was weighted with memory. With every hug we've ever shared. With every chance meeting of our eyes resulting in laughter. With every sick call I made so we could spend those summer evenings sitting in the grass or in the swings, pumping our legs to go higher and higher.

I forgot how to hug you. It's the dumbest thing to forget how to hug someone, I know, but our hugs were always different. I can't believe I forgot. But you reminded me. You never forgot, it seems. Thank you. Hopefully, this is the start of something good between us. At the very least, it's the restart of the good we once had.

Worse This Time

I really wanted to post something here this weekend but I am way to depressed for that right now. I wish there was a way to shut yourself off for a while. Just turn off your senses, comprehension, feelings. Everything. Just for a while. Even the lack of any feeling or emotion would be better than this.

Out of the Ordinary...?

I just wanted to throw it out there that I had a fantastic weekend.

I had Friday off from work so I could go downtown to the Hard Rock Cafe and watch MgO tear the house down and embarrass all the other bands that played. I got to spend time with all my closest friends and not worry about anything, for a few hours at least.

Saturday didn't really happen. I was awake for a few hours before I fell asleep reading around 5pm. I didn't wake up until twelve hours later, early Sunday morning.

Sunday went as it usually does, with all it's ups and downs. The gueast speaker in church was really good, though he didn't speak long enough for my liking. Choir practice seemed to drag on and I was already in a terrible mood so the whole experience was slightly torturous.

I managed to double book myself Sunday evening so I was forced to choose between plans. As I really wanted to do both things, I knew that, whatever I chose, I would regret not doing the other, but I am happy with what I did do. I went out with my friend and talked for nearly five hours. Not all the subject matter was sunshine and butterflies but it is so good to be able to just sit and talk to someone sometimes.

Monday was basically a regular Monday. I spent all my concious time reading and as a result, I finished my book! The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan. Such a good book. I'm happy to finally start the second in the series, The Great Hunt. Being a slow night at work, I've already read two or three chapters.

I hope the few of you who may be reading this had good weekends as well. Here's to a good week of work/school/whatever you do and another good weekend to follow. Cheers.

:)

Lazy Mondays

It was just a lazy Monday afternoon. The blue sky outside gave the illusion of warmth, though I knew the truth. Without the blanket of clouds, there was nothing to protect from the harsh cold of February. Time withered away as I spent my last waking moments reading, unable to put my book down. I need to be going to bed soon. Like the stalker you are, you spied on me, sprawled on the couch under my blanket, keeping warm from the winter's cold.

You've always been so fickle. When I want you with me, you ignore me. When I'm well enough alone, you're all over me. Very rarely do we come together looking for the same thing, but we have our moments.

Silently, you come. My back is to the wall so you can't sneak up on me, but with my head in my book and your utter silence, I take no notice of you entering the room. Closer and closer, you creep, not a creak or a moan from the house do you stir. The slightest tug on my blanket draws my gaze from my book. I peer over my knees into your eyes staring up at me. I can't help but smile. You're so cute when you do that.

I know exactly what you want. Naps are great but always better when someone's there to keep you warm. You lay on my chest and I can feel your heartbeat. Your eyes get heavy as weariness gets the better of you and sleep descends, your purring a welcome sound in the silence of a lazy Monday afternoon.

I go back to my book, happy just to simply be. Many people don't understand the bond between pets and their owners, but it's there and it's real. You're my baby. My Gadget.

Appropriate

This has to be the theme of my life.

"I will hate the man you choose because he is not me, and love him if he makes you smile."
-Lan in The Eye of the World by Robert Jordan

"That Guy"

I feel like I've been a bit of a downer lately. I haven't meant to be. I've just been generally down and I guess I have a bad habit of dragging everyone nearby down with me. It's just hard to see the bright side of things sometimes.

As I've written before, my whole life is a roller coaster. The ups and downs can last as long as a month or as short as an hour. But the amount of time spent on one high or low doesn't diminish the stress it puts on me. The constant shifting of personal disposition wears me down. And that, in turn, makes me either hostile or depressed. Neither temperament is pleasant to deal with in another person, even a friend.

So I apologise to those of you whom I have aggravated or angered or offended hurt. It has never been my intention to do so. I'm working on changing how I operate but change for me is a slow process, though I suppose it is for most people.

Please have patience with me as I try to deal with all the shit I have gathered and stored in my life. I've never been very good at cleaning.

Infringement

I'm a creep.
I'm a weirdo.
What the hell am I doing here?
I don't belong here.

I fucked it up again.

Why am I not surprised?

Spoke Too Soon

Never write about your roller coaster day ending up high before your day is complete. If the day's not over, there is still time for the roller coaster to take a big dive.

And it did.

Vehemence

You ever been on a roller coaster? Isn't it awesome? All the rises and falls, the loops and spirals, the negative and positive gravitational forces. All together, they make such an enjoyable experience that can be had over and over again and will never get old.

The roller coaster of life, however, is not such an enjoyable experience. The rises and falls of emotion, the loops and spirals of experience, the negative and positive gravitational forces of... Okay, the metaphor gets sketchy there, but you get my point.

Unfortunately for me, I'm overly emotional. A single day can hold a plethora of emotional rises and falls.

A single word can turn bliss into despair.

A single glance can turn torment into serenity.

A single action can turn the absence of feeling into a myriad of sensation.

It's emotionally exhausting. And when the day fails to close on a high note, it can be crushing.

But being the roller coasters that they are, my days can sometimes surprise me. And today was one of those.

A surprise.

There are too many details to list now but I'll give you one.

Every year, my friend and I bet on the Super Bowl. I let her pick a team and I take the other. The loser buys lunch for the winner the following week. We've been doing this for three years. I'm 0 for 3. I don't care. I love it.

The past few months have been... rocky between this friend and I. I have done things in my life that will shame me to my grave and those actions have hurt many of the people I love and my relationships with them. She is no different.

But a couple weeks ago, as I said hello to her, I mentioned that the super bowl was coming up. She actually perked up and sounded halfway excited about our bet.

Today, we talked more about it and she was happy and excited and amazing. The friend I've always loved. We joked and laughed and poked fun of each other, just like we used to. It was... Happiness.

No.

Not happiness.

Elation.

I love her so much. She's never been anything but a friend to me. What have I been to her?

Anyway, I'm way off track. I guess what I'm saying is that while this roller coaster I'm on is a horrible, exhausting, painful experience, it occasionally leaves me with a smile on my face.

And if it's a smile for the right person, it makes all the pain completely worth it.

And today, the smile left on my face was for the right person.

So worth it.

Maybe Not

Man, I am so jealous of you two. You are so good together and you each have someone who truly makes you happy.

As I drove onto the street last night I saw the two of you walking toward your car, your arm locked around his, pressing up against him, not only for warmth, but because you can't stand to be apart from him.

A wave of emotions washed over me the moment my eyes took you in.

Happiness that you are so happy being with him.

Sadness that I may never know that feeling.

Fear that he could fuck things up and hurt you.

Anger at the guys who did, and still, hurt you.

Regret that you both left my house that night before I was ready to let you leave.

It all adds up to jealousy. I'm so jealous of you both for what you have found in each other.

But as far as I am concerned, he gets the better end of the deal in being with you. You're so funny, and intelligent and caring and super gorgeous, not to mention that you're a hockey fan. Girls like you seem to be getting more and more rare. You're one in a billion.

But it's not that you got stiffed either. He's funny and intelligent and caring and practical, not to mention super talented at fucking everything. How could a guy like me ever stand a chance against a guy like him?

Don't let me sour what you have though. You two are beautiful together. If my life weren't so screwed up right now, the only emotion I'd feel when I see you together would be complete happiness.

Maybe someday, if I ever get my life back on solid ground, maybe I'll find someone for me. Someone like you. Or maybe she'll find me when she's supposed to, like you keep telling me. Or maybe we'll find each other, bumping into each other in a small coffee shop and then later, shopping after work. Maybe.

Maybe not.

I'm so happy for you, my dear friend. Do not be saddened by any of the doubts and fears that come into your mind. Be happy that you are fortunate enough to be where you are. Your insecurities are grossly unfounded.

Selfish, Really

Today turned out to be a good day. My friends need to realize the effect they have on me is good. The time I spend with you guys can turn the worst day into a memorable one. If I have to, say, drive to Vaughan and back and buy coffee and donuts to pick you up from school and take you home, I'm more than willing to do so. Less like willing to and more like wanting to, actually. So stop fighting me and just take the favours I offer because I'm not just doing them for you. I'm doing them for me as well. I like you guys and I want to spend time with you.

Conclusion: Shut up and take the damn ride already. Yeah, I'm totally talking to you.

Everything I Write is the Same

Will you miss me when I'm gone? Will you even care? Someday, I'm not going to be here anymore. I'm not going to set up the mics for practice, I'm not going to stay late after everyone's left to make sure that everything gets put away, I'm not going to be there to do the little things that no one notices until they're not done. I'm not going to be here.

Do you even miss me now? Remember the friends we once were? Remember the love between us? I know I screwed up bad but doesn't that count for something? I guess not.

I can't blame you or hold any of it against you. I deserve nothing but the hatred of every person I've ever loved. Hell, in some twisted way, I want it. Anything less feels like I'm getting off easy, which I totally am. You'd be the first to tell me that if you could.

I wish we had never been the close friends we were. That way, this wouldn't be tearing my heart in two. I wouldn't feel immobilized by fear when you walk into the room, even though I would be so sad if you didn't show up. My heart wouldn't skip a beat every time you look me in the eye.

I wish this were some simple crush that could be gotten over with time and space, but it's not. You were more than a crush. You were more than family. You were a friend. A true friend, in the deepest of meanings. The only one of those I've ever really had.

Even when I'm looking right at you I've never been further from you. You're gone and I miss you. Do you miss me? Did you at all?

For what it's worth, I'd still give my life for yours.

Alarm Clock

Once again, you haunt my dreams. Once again, you taunt me with your beauty, your sexiness. Must you kick a man while he's down? Can you not leave well enough alone? Why do you continue to torture me in my loneliness?

Sigh...

How could I ever be angry at you? Isn't this what I want? While I have liked a lot of girls, you are the only one I ever loved. The only one who has managed to linger inside my head for years upon years it seems. I suppose your showing up in my dreams is my own damn fault.

But all you are to me now is a dream. A dream of what could possibly have been. A dream of what I once thought was all I ever wanted.

I think it's time to wake up.

Audible Joy

Did you resolve to do and/or not do anything this year? I did. Well, sort of. I decided to label 2011 as my year of live shows. I want to go see as many bands as possible, preferably for as little money as possible, but I'm not outrageously picky.

I've learned that no matter how good or bad a band may sound having gone through the recording and editing stages, 99% of the time they sound infinitely better live. I think it's a mixture of the atmosphere and the "realness" that the band gives off, rather than the highly edited, "perfect" sound of the recording. Because of this, I want to experience as many bands as possible in their best state.

The one problem I've run into is that most live shows are during the spring and summer. Not in the dead of winter. The earliest "big band" I found doing a show here is May 3. Sure, I've bought my tickets already, but that's a long way off. I need something to sustain me. Waiting for this show will drive me insane if I don't get some live music before then.

Now, I could go to the bars and clubs downtown and see some of the local talent as there's live music being played every day all over the city. But there is a problem with that too. Picking a random band on a random night at a random club is a lot of random to deal with. The odds of finding a halfway decent band are pretty low. Toronto has some very good local talent but finding that talent is something of a challenge.

But with the right show buddy and the right beer in hand and assortment of food in stomach, I'm up for the challenge. Taking in a large amount of shit bands can easily be made up by one really good band.

Come on bands. Impress me.

Imagine a roller coaster that let you keep the adrenaline rush after getting off...

It's January and that means that (pretty much) everyone is back to their normal lives. No more long weekends and short weeks, no more visits with family, no more copious amounts of food. It's back to the grind of everyday life. Or in my case, everynight life. But as much as my life is back to the same old cycle, repeated until death, I think this past weekend is worth noting.

Actually, nothing spectacular happened. I didn't go out for wings and beer with my buddy like I had planned, I outrageously overslept on Saturday so I couldn't get anything done and I was so wiped Sunday evening that I went to be around 8. But despite all this, all these things I would consider to equal a bad weekend, it wasn't bad at all.

First off, I woke up two hours late Saturday afternoon and nearly missed my mom's birthday party. But my family made sure I didn't, which is kind of them since they usually let me sleep. Before the party I ran to the store to pick up snacks for the movie and while I was out my friend called on her break. What a nice surprise! We chatted a few minutes before she went back to work.

I got home and spent the night at home with my family celebrating my mom's birthday, which was more enjoyable than I had thought it would be. We ate, watched a (lame) movie and played a game before people started heading off to do their own things. All in all, a really good night. I'm not at all disappointed that I didn't get to go out.

Later that night, (more like very early Sunday morning) my friend called back. She wanted advice on a problem. I feel so blessed by this because it takes me back to when people used to trust me enough to tell me their problems and just vent to me. It makes me feel useful without the aid of a forklift. Sure, it was crazy late and I had to get up crazy early but it was completely worth it to help someone and talking to her is always a pleasure.

Sunday started off like a normal Sunday. Get to church early, prep the equipment for the service, church service, smiles and hugs. It's hard not to be happy at church. Everyone is genuinely happy to see you and the music and preaching at my church are, in my humble, biased opinion, the best anywhere.

But this Sunday was special because we had the first choir practice of the new year. Christmas vacation is great and all but I hate time off from choir. It's one of my all time favourite activities to spend time doing. We started concert prep and learned a couple new songs. Usual stuff really but it was nice to get back at it after the Christmas break.

Sunday evening was a bit of a disappointment as my friend fell asleep and missed our appointement for wings and beer but we both work nights so I totally understand the exhaustion. I too was exhausted so I went home and soon fell asleep.

But leave it to my fantastic friends to turn a lame day into a day worth remembering. My friend with whom I talked on the phone the previous night sent me a message asking me to call again. So I did! We talked for a while before going to sleep. I actually forgot what it was like to talk myself to sleep with a good friend. Nothing better, as far as I'm concerned.

Worth noting: I saw Tron: Legacy on Monday with my dad. It was pretty good in my opinion. Not as good as I had hoped but quite enjoyable.

The point I'm getting at is that despite the ups and downs in any span time, the highs and lows, if you have friends and or family who actually care about you and seem to like you despite all odds, that span of time can end on such a good note that you don't even remember the low points. So thank you to my wonderful family. Thank you to my spectacular choir mates and life longs friend therein. Thank you to my awesome friend who talks to me into the wee hours of the morning. You are all high points in my life and being with you you can only result in such.

And thank you Lord for giving them all to me. I am not deserving of a single one person caring for me and yet, here they are.

(I write way too damn much.)

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

Hello Bloggerers. It's been a while. I hope ya'll had a great couple of holidays. Overall, I think I did. The good usually out weighs the bad for me anyway.

There were a couple of you who were monumental to me the last couple weeks. Whether you gave me a thoughtful gift, hung out with me or even just talked to me at odd times of the night(morning, really), you made this year memorable. And you need to know that I mean that literally. The Christmas/New Year season has been very dull and lonely for me the last few years. All very forgettable. I will remember this year for a very long time. Thank you.